Take This Hate
by SilentAnokoku
Summary: England goes through his storage and finds old possessions dating from before the Roman occupation. Can be seen as either ScotEng or just as brothers.


_I DO NOT OWN HETALIA!_

_Please forgive my vague, shaky, and crappy understanding of British history_

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><p>A child-sized cloak.<p>

_"Scottie?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"What happens when the people go away?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"What happens when the people leave us? Where do we go?"_

_"I..."_

_"Scottie?"_

_"...I don't know, Iggy."_

A piece of a rock wall.

_"England..!"_

_"Scotland? What're you doing here? Rome-"_

_"Rome can go 'an skewer himself on his own warriors' weapons."_

_"But what if he catches you on this side of the wall?"_

_"I don't care about some wall!"_

_"I don't want to lose you more than I have!"_

_"...Heh...After all these years an' you still can't stop clingin' to me."_

_"...No.."_

_"'m not goin' anywhere. Empire or no, Rome can't make me leave. I'll always be on the other side o' that wall."_

His own hand had carved into the stone words he could no longer read but knew still.

_"Scotland!"_

_"What're you doin' on this side? You know if my lads see you, they'll not think twice 'bout guttin' you."_

_"It's Rome! I haven't seen him in ages. Normally he would have visited by now."_

_"And?"_

_"Do you...think that means I'm my own country again?"_

_"I suppose it might. Maybe he disappeared and died."_

_"...Is that what happens when we lose our people?"_

He had always feared what happened when one lost claim to being a country. It only grew worse when Rome disappeared.

And so he fought it.

For years on end he battle against this fate in the only way he could: fighting his fellow countries. He conquered so many of them, making his own empire. Even if he earned all of their hate, he would never disappear. Not as long as he had their people as his own.

A full set of now-dingy armor.

A myriad of swords.

And countless guns.

Just as Rome had fallen before him, he too fell. Though he was fortunate enough to have remained unlike the ancient empire, he was back on his lonely isle. Their lonely isle.

But the hate which had existed between he and his surrogate brother had grown exponentially throughout the years of fighting.

"I can't do it," he sighed softly, his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"You never can."

He spun to face the owner of the voice, though he knew who it was based upon the accent.

"I found my old cloak," the redhead said, slowly stepping away from the doorway and closer to him. "The one you were always tuggin' on and chewin' at. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you, so I thought I'd visit. Seems you found some things from our old times, too."

He set the stone from Rome's wall back down beside his green cloak from his childhood. "Last time you 'visited' me, I received an addition to the scar collection I've amassed over the years."

The scotsman shrugged, "Be more careful 'bout what you say 'round me."

He was too stubborn and proud to allow himself to back up as the other country advanced. "What do you want this time, Scotland?"

The red-head stopped very close to him, emerald eyes meeting a matching emerald. His brows furrowed briefly as they always did when he was thinking; he never did have the best people skills. Neither of them did.

"I," he drawled carefully and ponderously, "Want things to be like they were in the old days. Before the fighting."

"Don't be ridiculous; you know that we can never go back."

The other country's eyes darkened briefly with anger. "That doesn't mean we can't try," he managed to say, restraining himself.

"What's the point in trying if we're only going to fai-"

"Dammit, England! You listen to me, or I swear to kick your sorry arse! You're still the needy, lonely child you were and I'm still the same hot-headed lad I was then!"

He grabbed at the hands which had fisted themselves on his shirt, pulling him close. "Except we've changed! I'm a proper gentleman now and you bloody hate me!"

"Then take this hate from me!" The red-head's accent was a thick snarl. "I'm so sick of it! I don't want this anymore! I..!" The Scotsman's expression softened slightly, revealing a melancholy look in his eyes.

"...I just want you back."

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><p><em>This is probably rather OOC... I don't really have much to go off of when it comes to Scotland unfortunately... I'm sorry ^^;<em>

_Reviews saying what I've done well and things I can improve upon are wonderful. Even reviews just saying you liked it or something are nice. I'd also appreciate if anyone pointed out typoes and places where I got the history wrong._


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